It All Started With A Parade
by kymby67
Summary: Edith Crawley, while taking her daughter Marigold to see the annual Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, has a pleasantly unexpected encounter with a distinguished gentleman who has also relocated from Yorkshire, England, one Anthony Strallan.


**I was thinking last night about the Macy's Thanksgiving day parade, when this little idea for a one shot popped in my head. So, if you're from the States and celebrating today, Happy Thanksgiving! Everyone else, I hope you've also had a fantastic day!**

Anthony Strallan, arriving about fifteen minutes before the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade was scheduled to begin, secured a spot at the back of the crowd to view the festivities. Having just relocated to New York City not quite a month ago, he'd intended to watch the affair on the telly, but was eventually persuaded to brave the cold by a colleague, who'd insisted the parade must be experienced in person to get the full effect of it's wonder. He had to admit, although he'd much rather be home sipping tea and watching from the comfort of his living room, the throng of folk, mostly families with small children, who'd turned out to view the annual event was impressive. His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of a small child, a little girl of about four of five, Anthony guessed, who, lacking the advantage of his height, was clearly disappointed by her limited viewing aspects.

"Mama" Anthony, startled by her English accent, focused his attention solely towards her, "I'm afraid Santa won't be able to see me" her little lip trembled as she fought back a sob.

"I'm sorry sweetie," a young woman of about twenty-five apologized. One could clearly see from the resemblance between the two, from their chestnut brown eyes to their coppery curls, that she was the child's mother. "I had no idea all the good spots would already be taken." Giving a defeated sigh, she mumbled more to herself than her daughter, "Who would have thought these people would be here as early as six a.m.?"

The entire scene tugged at the older gentleman's heart and the words left his mouth without so much as a thought as to how his offer might be perceived.

"Perhaps, she could sit on my shoulders" he suggested, "I'm sure, Santa could see her then" he smiled.

"What!" her mother was clearly alarmed.

"Oh...dear me... I... I beg... your pardon" the baronet stuttered, "clearly I spoke without considering how...how...inappropriate that would sound. Please, forget I mentioned it."

Embarrassed Anthony, shuffled away a few feet, pretending to focus his attention back towards the hustle and bustle of the street. A few moments later, he was surprised to feel a gentle tug at his arm and looking down, he grinned in delight at the young lady reaching her chubby little arms up at him. The tall blond glanced at her mother, who gave a small nod of approval, and he easily hoisted her up to sit astride his shoulders.

"I'm Edith Crawley" the young woman introduced herself, extending her arm, "and this is Marigold, my daughter. You're English" she rolled her eyes. "Although... I'm certain... of course" she stammered, "you're aware of that fact."

"Actually, I should thank you for pointing that out" Anthony deadpanned, taking her hand, "I was beginning to wonder why I sounded different from most everyone else" he continued before breaking into a crooked grin which caused the strawberry blonde's heart to flutter. "Anthony Strallan, it's a pleasure to make your and your lovely daughter's acquaintance. You have no idea how thrilled I am to find someone else from our little part of the world. If I may be so bold, exactly where are you from?"

"Yorkshire."

"What a remarkable coincidence" the baronet exclaimed, "so am I! Wait, your name is Crawley, are you related to Robert Crawley?"

"He's my father" the redhead responded shyly, "do you know him?"

"Locksley estate, which I own, borders the Grantham property.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I should have recognized your name. Papa often mentions how well Locksley estate has thrived through the ages. Although, I don't recall ever seeing you about the area."

"I spend most of my time in London" the tall blond gave a sad smile, "since my wife's passing nearly ten years ago" he finished quietly.

The pair grew quiet for a moment until Marigold squealed with delight and pointedly excitedly at the float passing by, "Look Mama, it's Snoopy!"

Three hours later, having held the little girl for nearly the entire time, his back and shoulders were aching but Anthony hardly noticed so filled with joy was his heart at having witnessed Marigold's happiness. Almost reluctantly, the baronet finally set her gently back on the ground.

"What do we say sweetie?"

"Thank you Mister Anthony" she said politely, before spontaneously wrapping her arms around the older gentleman's leg to give him a hug.

It would have been hard to say which of the adults was more surprised or, for that matter, more delighted by the child's actions.

Kneeling down, the baronet placed a kiss to Marigold's tiny hand, "It was a pleasure, my lady" he replied gallantly, causing her to giggle.

Suddenly, Marigold had, what she considered, a marvelous idea.

"Mama, Mama" she cried running towards Edith, "we should invite Mr. Anthony to Thanksgiving dinner at Grandmama Martha's. To thank him for being so kind."

If Edith was honest, the same thought had occurred to her. The past three hours spent with Anthony had been positively wonderful, the pair discovering as they talked that they shared very similar interests in many areas. She certainly wouldn't mind becoming better acquainted with the tall, affable, blond gentleman who, was in her opinion, quite handsome, in a distinguished sort of way. And, to be able to gaze across the dinner table into those eyes, so blue and filled with warmth... Put a stop to those thoughts right now Edith, she inwardly chided herself. The gentleman was just being kind to Marigold, nothing more.

Still, the young woman was caught a bit off guard by her, normally, shy and reserved, daughter's request.

"Well, if you don't have other plans" the strawberry blonde blushed, "you're more than welcome to join us.

Although he was certainly open to the invitation, Anthony paused, "I wouldn't want to impose on your grandmother."

"Oh, grandmama doesn't stand on convention. She's never met a stranger. I'm sure she'd welcome you with open arms. Knowing her, she's probably invited several people she's only recently met."

It would be nice, Anthony decided, besides, you've been wracking your brain for the past hour trying to find an excuse that would allow you to get to know this lovely young lady and her daughter better.

"In that case" he answered, "I should be delighted" causing Marigold to laugh gleefully and Edith to blush a shade brighter.

Hailing a taxi, the trio climbed into the backseat. At first, Edith was somewhat embarrassed by the fact that Marigold insisted on sitting in Anthony's lap, her arms wrapped tightly around the baronet's neck, jabbering excitedly about the parade. But, Anthony, bless his heart, didn't seem to mind. In fact, his warm rich laughter and gentle teasing of Marigold, seemed to indicate the baronet was enjoying her daughter's company. A huge mark in the tall blond's favor as far as Edith was concerned. Most men barely acknowledged her daughter after being introduced to her.

Soon the cab stopped in front of a magnificent brownstone and as the trio filed out, Anthony paid the fare, tipping the driver rather generously.

"Thank you sir. Thank you very much!" the driver exclaimed. "Happy Thanksgiving to you and your lovely family!"

"I ...erm... We're... erm... They're..." was all a befuddled Anthony could manage.

Edith leaned down to look at the young man, "A happy Thanksgiving to you as well" she gushed. Beaming, she turned to Anthony, "It was a perfectly understandable mistake" she shrugged, before heading towards the front door and ringing the bell.

Martha Levinson didn't seem the least bit surprised at seeing her granddaughter turn up at her door with a near stranger, Anthony surmised, or if she was, she certainly hadn't shown it. In fact, the tall blond couldn't remember a time when he'd been made to feel more welcome. The atmosphere was laid back, the food delicious, the guests, ranging in social status from the wealthy New York upper-crust to the working class of Boston were a combination of lively, entertaining, and intelligent. And, in the baronet's opinion, best of all, little Marigold refused to let the older gentleman out of her sight the entire evening. A fact that did not go unnoticed by either her mother or grandmother.

"For someone she only met this morning, Marigold has certainly formed quite an attachment to your Mister Anthony there" the older woman commented, watching the pair from a distance.

"Oh, grandmama," Edith huffed, "he's not my Mister Anthony!" Her tone softened, "But, he is rather wonderful."

Turning to her favorite granddaughter, Martha grinned mischievously, "would you like him to be? Never mind, you needn't answer my question, dear" the feisty redhead smirked, "I can already tell from the look on your face that you're falling for him."

"Hush" Edith admonished, seeing her daughter and the man in question approaching "not another word!"

"I think someone's finally exhausted" declared the baronet as he handed his companion for the evening off to her mother, "and, I don't just mean Marigold."

"Yes we should be getting home. It's way past her bedtime."

"Mrs. Levinson, thank you for a splendid evening", the baronet gave a slight bow, "I've enjoyed myself immensely."

"I'm happy Edith brought you along, dear. Your intelligence and wit were the life of the party. And, I'm pleased to learn, my great granddaughter is already exhibiting, quite obviously, that she has excellent taste when it comes to men." she winked, causing both Edith and her gentleman friend to turn beet red. Reaching up, Martha placed a kiss on the tall blond's cheek, "I hope we'll be seeing more of you, Mister Anthony" she murmured before kissing her granddaughter and little Marigold goodnight.

Even though it was a bit out of his way, Anthony insisted on seeing Edith and Marigold home rather than taking separate cabs. Secretly, both were pleased as it allowed the couple to extend the evening a bit longer. The ride back was quiet as neither wanted to disturb the sleeping toddler and soon both were lost in their thoughts. The driver, much to the dismay of both, seemed to make the trip in record time and soon the couple stood at Edith's door. While Anthony held Marigold, the strawberry blonde nervously unlocked her door, hoping the blue eyed baronet might ask to see her again.

Meanwhile, Anthony who'd been racking his brain for even the flimsiest of excuses to see the young woman once more, suddenly remembered a bit of a conversation he'd overheard at the office. "Edith" he began nervously, "It seems, here in America, it's customary for many people to put their Christmas tree up the day after Thanksgiving. I was wondering if you might allow me to take you and Marigold to pick out a tree tomorrow? You know... as... as a... a way of... of saying thank you for such a lovely evening."

Hearing Edith chuckle, Anthony immediately began backpedaling, "forgive me, now that I think about it, that was a rather silly suggestion. I'm sure you have plans tomorrow. In fact, you've... you've probably already picked out a tree. I mean... Christmas... Christmas... is... is just around the corner" he rambled, stopping only when the strawberry blonde touched his arm.

"I think it's a wonderful idea, Anthony. It's just you see..." the redhead paused, glancing down bashfully, "first, Marigold wanted to thank you for your kindness and now you want to thank us, and after tomorrow, I'll need to find some way to repay you for such a kind gesture. I feel I should warn you, my dear man, that, should we continue this cycle of gratitude, I'm afraid you'll never be shed of us."

I can't think of anything that would please me more, Anthony happily thought, as he leaned down to place a chaste kiss to the cheeks of the beautiful young ladies whom, he hoped, would soon be, his girls.

 **The End**


End file.
